The Places You Weren't At
by squeakified343
Summary: Batman: Man, boy, madman, failure, hero, criminal, saviour. All my favourite themes as a fan.
1. Prelude: While Gotham Sleeps

**Prelude**

Another slug to the face, he followed the flow of the punch, reducing damage. While the brute was still relishing that one hit, the dark figure swiftly transferred his weight, twisting, and slamming his leg against the hooligan's ribs. There was a sickening crack. The man fell.

_Who? The Batman? Oh yes, Batsy is a good little bat. He makes the perfect nightmare for the criminally inclined. Powerful, silent, incorruptible… Yes, yes. Batsy is a good little bat, he tries so hard to be._

Two more, coming from both sides. Blood thick in his mouth, Batman leapt up to grab a low hanging part of the piping, the joints of his arms screaming in protest. The men ran right into the simultaneous kicks. The force of the hits was brutal on his knees, one of the men collapsed, the other still swinging blearily. He was soon put out as well.

_Why? So that you, and I, can sleep at night. Huzzah!_

"Master Bruce, there is noble sacrifice, and there is suicide. I'm beginning to fear that you have forgotten the difference." The butler wrapped up the last of his charge's injuries, a line of what seemed to be disapproval made itself clear between his white brows.

"Sorry, Alfred." Wayne winced a little as he sat up, the bruises that riddled his body, and the tortured muscles all feuding for the occupation of his mind. "Gotham needs Batman, and as long as it needs him-"

"Gotham needs an intact, functioning Batman. At this point, sir, neither describes your condition."

_I wonder, do you sleep, Batsy? Or is Joker keeping up the punchlines for his darling? Is the Riddler pelting you with his insatiable pride? Are you just dying for madness to come home? To come and play?_

Desperate, grappling hands, clumsily welded metal, sweet perfume amongst the blood and gunpowder, moonlight on a scarlet-soaked tie, pearls, pearls, pearls…

Wayne woke again. While Gotham slept, the Batman wept.

_Sleep, Batsy. Sleep. _

_Gotham doesn't need another mad man to play with the mad. We have enough. And you cannot put them all away. Arkham can only hold so many, and you are too weak to send them deeper._

_Give up, Dark Knight. Give up on the city that doesn't want to be saved. We don't want to be saved. We want to burn. Let us burn, or burn, burn, burn with us. Don't keep up with that silly dance. Let them eat us. Let them take us._

_Don't you see, Batsy? This is the punchline of Fate. This is the natural course of nature. This is the sound of Chance's laughter. We will be slaughtered, for no sense but the sense that matters, the sense of a world in which you have no place. _

_For you are the only thing keeping us trapped in this static battle between the obsolete and the inevitable._

_Who do you really fight for?_

_Us? Or Arkham's children?_

_Who do you really want to save?_

_Gotham? Or the Batman?_

_

* * *

_

_Author in Rant: When I should have been studying, I fell back in love with Batman, The Animated Series. Someone had given us a tape of the episode with Mr. Freeze when I was younger, and I have always remembered snippets of it. Soon after reacquainting myself with the cartoon, I was introduced to the wonderful world of graphic novels, and got to know Batman even better. I was quickly hooked, and couldn't help but try my hand at writing a fanfic. Don't worry, I'm not going to leave off with this wacky chapter. ...Maybe you should worry. One thing I like about Batman, is that there is so much madness in it, and the madness isn't just there to laugh in your face and leave you baffled. They explain_ it to you. By the time they're through, you thoroughly understand, and are convinced of the reality and depth to the madness. I can't claim to be anywhere as good, or as dark a storyteller as the likes of Alan Moore, but I am a rather stubborn fan, so I will try.

But enough of my ramblings. Let's get on with the story.


	2. The Places You Weren't At

**1 The Places You Weren't At**

"Mommy?"

Timothy Perkins' voice was soft, small. It barely penetrated the dark, heavy space between him and his mother. A hand brushed against his cheek.

"What is it, Timmy?"

"I don't want to go to sleep."

"Why not?"

"Because in the morning, you won't be here anymore. You always leave."

Timmy felt a light kiss against his forehead, a warm hand cradling the side of his face.

"I'll be here, Timmy. I'm never going to leave you again. Never. Now, get some sleep."

The young boy's breath grew steady, and deeper, his eyes falling shut against the blackness. Mommy was here. He was safe.

--

Morning did not break into bright beams. It slid, fell, and slid again across the floors, up the side of the large bed and unto Bruce Wayne's eyes.

"Good Morning, Master Wayne."

"'Morning, Alfred."

There was a slight clink beside him as the old butler set down his breakfast. Toast, butter, jam, coffee, and the paper.

"I presume all went well last night, Master Wayne?"

The said vigilante groaned a little, cracking his eyes open.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're in one piece… more or less."

Wayne pulled himself upright, wincing slightly as the usual cacophony of pain assaulted his groggy mind.

"Barely, Alfred. Barely."

--

"What do we have here, men?"

"No forced entry. Martha Perkins, 27, dead for over an hour. Timothy Perkins, 6, location unknown."

Gordon sighed, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his trench coat. His fingers just brushing the photo he kept sewn there.

"Alright. Put up search warrants, ask the neighbours, the usual. I'll pack up."

"Yessir."

Following the young officer's exit, a certain winged shadow fell into the room. Gordon was almost getting used to his unannounced arrivals, he couldn't say the same for his old heart.

"One day you're going to give me a heart attack."

"When did this happen."

Gordon gave Batman the rough times appropriated from the evidence. The woman had died around 10 o'clock the previous night. The boy had left, or had been taken sometime before then.

"I was here."

"What?"

"I was one block away from here last night, putting down one of Ivy's monsters."

Silence, bore down between them wit h a great weight. Gordon walked over to the bed, staring down at the spot where Timmy was supposed to be, and the deep stains beside the bed.

"You can't be everywhere. No one can. There are more sickos than we can- Dammit."

Gotham's Dark Knight was already gone.

--

With a gloved hand, Wayne ripped off the hastily gathered data from the printer. He had few leads, but it was a place to start. The Batmobile was still warm, and growling. He had arrived only moments ago, and would be leaving in mere moments as well. Alfred was clearing away the soaked bandages from the redressing that had been hurriedly carried out while his charge had been furiously typing, and hacking away. There was a definite frown in the set of the old butler's eyebrows.

"Might I suggest, sir, that you carry out your investigations from the computer and not the streets? Just for one night."

"Alfred, there's a life on the line."

"With all due respect, Master Bruce, there always is. But there are a lot more lives at stake if _you_ should push yourself too far."

"Something's very wrong with this case. I felt it at the scene."

"That can't possibly be why you are taking on a something of a scale that the police can handle. Why the particular… concern?"

The black mask allowed for no emotions, but Alfred knew Master Bruce well enough to detect a certain tone, and he knew that it meant there was no reasoning with him.

"Because, I could have been there, Alfred. I should have been there."

Dark hood hissing shut, the Batmobile roared out of the cave. In its wake, Alfred sighed.

"Very well, sir."  


* * *

Author in Rant: So, there we have it. The first chapter. Hate it, like it, barfing on it, don't mind it... let me know?


	3. Everyone Loves A Hero

**Everyone Loves a Hero**

"He's like- awesome man. I mean like, totally awesome."

"It was incredible. It- it's the sort of thing you expect to see in the movies you know?"

"I've never been a fan of the caped crusador myself, but I have to admit that he is remarkably efficient for a one-man team."

"He just swooped out of nowhere! Like a- like a superbat!"

The newspapers would not stop singing his praise. Disposing of Poison Ivy's morbid creation that night had saved the lives of a car full of screaming teenagers, one of whom was the only daughter of a very vocal editor in one of Gotham's most read magazines. Very soon, "Bang Bang Batman" off the press, and and milling into the hands of the city, spawning off more articles that were similarly effusive about Gotham's vigilante. Everyone had known about him before, but now he was a hot topic. Various people gave accounts of how their lives had been saved by the dark vigilante. A few tabloids even attempted to draw up a list of who was most likely to be Batman's civilian identity, one of whom jokingly offered a picture of Gotham's most eligible bachelor, Bruce Wayne as an answer to the mystery. But no one really wanted to know who the Batman was, they just wanted talk about him. There was even a brief release of some Batman merchandise, followed by a slight moral titter when children started sporting Batman masks and capes as they scuttled about.

One tabloid of lower circulation had cited an interview with a less bubbly citizen, in a hope to overturn the tide on the Batmad trend, and hopefully nab more readers. Good idea, lazy reporter. No one wanted to read about how some angry old lady's cat had been stuck in a tree for a day when Batman had once again stopped the Joker in his tracks.

The fad eventually died off, and apart from the occasional reference in the various broadcasted ethical debates about Arkham Asylum, Batman's persona was much removed from the media. Some however, still remained avid followers of the Dark Knight's exploits. Several desperately hounded the press with blurred pictures, and dazzling accounts, believing that Batman's rightful place was in the spotlight. Alfred knew the attention did little but annoy his charge, and so he sought to keep the offending articles out of sight.

""

"Another body was found, brutally beaten to death. This brings the toll to 5 in the recent chain of what is believed to be serial murders. Anyone with any information is strongly advised to call the police department at the number on your screens."

The number was flanked by a gruesome shot of the last victim. Cropping the picture hardly lessened its effect. He was stripped of clothes, dignity, and name, a cheap plastic Batman mask pulled over his face. The string of numbers at the bottom of the screen, and the message, seemed panicked in the way they flashed. Please, please, please, in red, red, red.

Alfred took a step towards the silent armchair, its twitching shadows seeming to speak of the occupant's barely controlled rage. Before the loyal butler could speak a word, Bruce had lurched out of his chair and stormed off towards the bat cave. Alfred sighed.

"That's hardly a face that becomes you, Master Bruce. What would your young lady companions think of it?" He spoke aloud, as if the one he addressed was still here, as he reached over to take the control and switch off the television. The room fell quiet, but one could almost feel the anger that boiled through the very walls of the mansion.

""

"Annie, don't- don't leave me." She felt his hands on hers, gripping with all the strength of a man, with all the desperate vulnerability of a scared child.

"Don't worry Timmy. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Just try to get some sleep." There was that smell again, and she could feel a damp stickiness on his hands. She barely held back a cry when his grip tightened.

"I will, but you must keep your promise. You must keep it, Annie."

"Of course. I promis-" She felt his breath on her face, the smell was stronger. The hands were on her shoulders now, holding her fast.

"What did you promise?" Annie could not see in the darkness, but she knew what his eyes looked like when he was like this.

"I promised that if the bat came, I'd wake you." He grabbed her in a fierce hug, burying his face in her shoulder.

"Yes, yes. Very good, Annie. Then I'd kill the bat. Then you'll be safe, Annie. Must keep you safe. Must." She reached up a hand to place on his back, stroking gently as she rocked lightly back and forth, rocking the blood-soaked mess as he mumbled himself into sleep.

* * *

Author In Rant: Well that took too long... Not that many are going to read this anyway. I suppose I wrote this mostly for my own peace of mind.


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